Letters From Vienna
by ridexc
Summary: Intent on studying psychiatry – and on avoiding a scandal – Julia sets sail for Austria to study with the legendary Sigmund Freud. What will that reveal about her renewed relationship with the good detective? In progress. (Spoilers for Season 6, episode one, Murdoch Air.)
1. Chapter 1

_Given that the producers aren't likely to backpedal and show us what happened in Vienna, I thought I'd take it upon myself to have a bit of fun with Julia's journey of self-discovery. _

_Disclaimer: Now I guess CBC owns Murdoch rather than CITY-TV … either way, I've got nothing to do with it._

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January 23, 1900

Dearest William,

I'm still on board the _Ruritania_ and will post this when we dock in Plymouth, two days hence. I hadn't intended to put pen to paper so soon, but I confess the voyage has been stultifying thus far, with little to do except brush up on my German. Given the frigid temperatures, even strolling the desk is an unappetizing proposition. I miss you terribly.

As we've drawn closer to European shores, I've become apprehensive about meeting Dr. Freud. His reputation precedes him, and while our initial contact was encouraging, as I re-read his letter of invitation, I worry that he did not take me very seriously – being from the colonies, and a woman at that. He may indeed be shocked to have me turn up on his doorstep! But I haven't come all this distance to be denied, so I shall just have to persuade him that I am a genuine student of psychoanalysis. Wish me luck.

Ruby had some contacts in Vienna who have found me a small apartment to rent, within walking distance of Freud's workplace. I'm looking forward to once again having a floor that doesn't move. Even better, I'm told there is a little bakery down the street which makes delicious pastries, so I shall not starve!

Don't fret, my darling. Vienna is quite civilized and should be very safe for a woman alone. If I should run into difficulty, you know I will not be shy about engaging the assistance of the local constabulary!

No-one in Vienna, however (or anywhere else), could ever take your place in my heart.

Your Julia.

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January 26, 1900

Dearest William,

There's time for a quick note while I'm on the train from Plymouth to Hull today. I just wanted to let you know how much you're in my thoughts.

I'm to board a ferry from Hull tomorrow, which will take me to Rotterdam. It's supposed to be a fairly short crossing, just a few hours. Then by train for the final leg of the journey to Austria, from the lowlands to the Alps in the space of a day! The Dutch trains are supposed to be very quick and efficient, but I have heard horror stories of them losing luggage, so I shall have to keep a close eye on my trunks. Not that there is much in them at present, as it has been so cold I'm wearing almost every stitch of clothing I have brought with me. Thankfully the carriage I'm in at present has provided coal-filled foot warmers – but I can still see my breath!

Nonetheless, the English countryside is lovely, all covered in hoarfrost. Quite an improvement over the grubby Plymouth docks. I don't have high expectations of Hull, either, from what I've heard, but I shall only be there one night, and I trust there will be no shortage of inns and hotels given the constant traffic from the harbour there.

Will, I know we discussed my plans before I left, but I want to be sure you understand my reasons. Being parted from you so soon after being reunited was never my desire – quite the opposite, in fact. But I hope that by disappearing from Toronto for a while, I can avoid embroiling you (and yes, Darcy as well) in my three-penny scandal, for which you are not at fault. I so deeply regret so many of my choices now, and more than any of them I regret turning my back on you and trying to forge an acceptable future out of an untenable situation. My heart knew better then, and it certainly knows better now. I am more grateful to you than I can express, that you still have room in yours for such a headstrong fool, and I hope we won't be parted for much longer. I intend to return to you a wiser and more honest woman, with every intention of making a life with you should you still wish it.

I will forward you my address once I reach Vienna. Please write to me there, and help me feel your love and support in my new venture. Until we are together again, I remain …

Your Julia.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks to everyone for the kind reviews and comments! Glad you like the concept … not quite sure where it will take me yet, but I have a few ideas…._

_BTW, you might want to read my previous two MM stories, After The Ball and The Lesser Sin, since this story kind of continues on from my version of what happened with these two on New Year's night. _

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February 2, 1900

Dearest William,

Finally, a moment to scribble a few words again. The past week has been a whirlwind and I have barely had a moment to sit and collect my thoughts. I hope you don't find this letter utterly disjointed and nonsensical!

I arrived in Vienna in something close to a blizzard, and gave up hope of locating my temporary flat that afternoon as the city was paralyzed. Not a cab to be had, and walking seemed like a foolish prospect with my luggage, so I hunkered down in the railroad hotel, which was a bit tattered around the edges, but comfortable enough. I was able to telephone the next day, fortunately, and get directions. I met Ruby's acquaintance near the address to obtain the key – a mysterious young man named Horatio, whose English was excellent and who, from the way he enquired after Ruby, must be one of the paramours she seems to have tucked away in every city! No matter … nothing she does shocks me anymore, and I'm sure she has Father quite convinced that she is occupied in some sedate secretarial job somewhere …

The flat only confirms my suspicions: it has the distinct air of a lover's retreat. Horatio assured me, however, that I have its exclusive use while I am in Vienna and that I need not fear any (as he put it) unexpected visitors. It's entirely possible that he has more than one of these boudoirs set up in the city!

Inhabiting this little place, with its lush furnishings, mirrors, and yes, a ridiculously enormous bed … I can't help but think of you and fervently wish you were here to share it with me. Forgive me, I know I'm being naughty. It's something that sleeping in silken bed linens just seems to bring out in me!

Of course, as one would expect of a boudoir, there's little in the way of a kitchen here, so I suspect I will be eating out quite a lot. I did locate the bakery, and as promised it is a cornucopia of decadent desserts filled with whipped cream, but luckily it also has fresh French-style baguettes and hard cheese, which make a fine lunch for a studious sort like myself. Since there's also nothing much in the way of a desk or proper table in the flat, you may picture me in the middle of the enormous bed, with my textbooks and notes strewn all about, chewing industriously on a crust and leaving crumbs all over those luxury sheets.

I find myself missing you more each day and long to hear your voice, even if it's only on paper. Please write me at Dietrichsteingasse 47, flat #4, Vienna. I'll save my initial encounter with Dr. Freud for my next missive.

All my love,

Julia.

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February 25, 1900

Darling Julia,

I am indeed picturing you in the "enormous bed". Will you forgive me if I don't include the textbooks or the crumbs in my mind's eye? I would rather … well, let me just say that your absence is keenly felt.

It has been so wonderful to receive each of your letters. It has made me realize that we have never really corresponded, unless you count telegrams to and from Buffalo – terse and awkward and not at all to my taste. I intend, with your permission, to remedy that while we're currently apart. I have a rather romantic notion of you keeping a little bundle of letters, tied with a ribbon, and taking them out to re-read some day decades in the future, when we are both gray-templed and quite past our prime. So I will endeavour to say something in each which will make them worth keeping tucked under a mattress, though perhaps not one quite so well-enjoyed as that in your current sleeping quarters!

I hope you have some idea just how much joy you brought back into my life on New Year's eve. It is as if I have been living in a photograph, all shades of gray, and now have stepped out of the frame and into the sun.

I realize I am not a demonstrative man as a rule, and I know my reticence has been an obstacle in the past, but in these letters I vow to tell you everything that's in my heart, as plainly as I can.

But for now, my love, I must be short. It's early morning, and I had hoped to have a few more quiet moments in my office to pour out all my thoughts, but George has just informed me of a crime scene. Something involving a supposedly ghostly apparition …

Be well, stay safe, and know you are always, always in my dreams.

Your William.


	3. Chapter 3

March 19, 1900

Dearest Will,

Your letter finally reached me. To say it touched my heart is an understatement. And in fact, that is where I am keeping it right now, next to my heart … and yes, my darling, that is meant to titillate!

I must say I miss you in so many ways. I certainly could have used your unwavering support a few weeks ago when I ventured to the office of Dr. Freud for the first time, for a most intimidating man he turned out to be, at least at first meeting. Luckily he is hardly the first man of science I have encountered who dismisses women out of hand, so I had some idea of how to proceed! First, however, I had to circumvent his housekeeper, who had instructions to turn me away. I had to describe at length the distances I had travelled to study with Dr. Freud, and how determined I was to establish the science of criminal psychiatry in Canada, before either relented.

Fortunately, our initial consultation ended on a happier note. I decided to appeal to the doctor's background as a neurologist by describing one or two of the more curious cases on which I'd worked in the morgue, and it seemed to intrigue him. I still have a long way to go to earn his respect, but I believe I may have scratched the surface. Enough so that he sent me away with research papers to read – in English, fortunately, since my German is still a bit sketchy – and I have since met with him three more times. He is growing a bit more cordial, or at least, less condescending, with each meeting. I intend to persevere!

We tend to think of Europeans as much more enlightened and progressive than we colonials, but my few weeks in Vienna has begun to convince me that the opposite is true. So much parochialism! As fascinating as I hope this course of study will be, I confess I will be happy to return to Toronto … and to the arms of a man who sees me as an equal, not a half-wit.

I have never thanked you enough for that, my love.

Yours always,

Julia.

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April 5, 1900

Darling Julia,

I can sense the frustration in your last letter.

It made me think of our very first encounter, when I'm afraid I may not have been much more welcoming than your Dr. Freud. I was so surprised to encounter a woman at a crime scene, and a woman _physician_, no less – that I was far less than cordial. I feel as if I can never apologize sufficiently for that. At the time I really had no appreciation for what you'd been through in order to arrive in such an accomplished position, and like so many men, I suspect I felt a bit threatened.

To say you won me over is, of course, an understatement. You won over my mind first, and very quickly you also found your way into my heart, in the most elegant and persistent way. I'm not suggesting you do the latter with Dr. Freud – please say that will never be so! – but I have every confidence that you will convince him of your sincerity and your intelligence as easily as you did me, and that you will surprise him again and again with your insights.

Every time you do so, rest assured you are not only advancing your own hard-won place in medical research, but you are paving the way for your sisters – women like young Dr. Grace, who is proving most capable, if for the moment sometimes distracted by the forest rather than the trees in her investigative reasoning. You taught her well.

I am not proud of my gender when I observe how many obstacles we have thrown in the professional path of the fairer sex, all based on fallacies of emotional and physical weakness. But I am extraordinarily proud of you for having dodged, stepped over, or ploughed through each of those obstacles, with that determined set to your jaw!

Forge onward in your studies, knowing that I love you all the more for it.

Your William.

PS – You might be amused to know that George has begun writing a second novel. This one concerns a visit from a native of Jupiter. I have the dubious honour of being appointed his proof-reader …


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